He should never sufficiently be able to regret the return which they had made to her. “No, that’s fine. ” He was a little bewildered. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals.
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